They finally let us in to see Diana around three o’clock. She shares a room with two other women, both of them asleep. A couple of people I assume are family to the other patients, sleep in the hard chairs. One of them snores with abandon.

Blake and I tiptoe in and make our way to her bedside. I hold my hand to my mouth to keep from gasping at her face.

Blake quietly draws the curtain around her bed, the rings rattling softly on the metal rails hung from the ceiling. When he faces her, his jaw twitches as if he clenches his teeth to powder. “That son of a bitch.” I know if Blake had access to Don right now, Don would be a dead man.

Diana’s face is a mass of swollen and purple bruises. Her lips are crevassed with three deep cuts, now covered with scabs. At least she’s been cleaned up, but her beauty lays hidden under a face a prize fighter would be proud of.

Blake’s eyes blaze with rage. He bends close to her and whispers. “We’re here, Diana. Me and Kylie. The doctor says you’re going to be okay. You need to rest up and in a couple of days, we can take you home.”

She blinks her eyes open. Dark circles with dilated pupils. She finds Blake’s face and locks onto it. The doctor told us she was heavily sedated and probably wouldn’t wake up. But if she did, she would be really out of it.

I take hold of her hand. “Hi, Diana. We’re going to take care of you. Don’t worry about anything.”

Her gaze travels to me and she looks like a frightened bird. “I’m going to stay right here. You get some rest.”

She closes her eyes. Blake and I each take hold of a hand and we stand there for a long time. Finally, I speak. “You better get some rest. You need to be at Dive Love in a couple of hours. I’ll stay here and when you get done at work, you can take over. I’ll need to cover her shifts at The Green Frog, so she doesn’t lose her job.”

He doesn’t want to leave, I can tell. But he agrees. “You’re a good friend.”

Zach said the same thing. They’re both wrong.

I watch him walk out. A good friend would have convinced Diana to run from Don. I let her down by allowing Diana to convince me she knew what was best for her. I knew Don was a mistake. And yet, I didn’t fight her about it.

A good friend put others’ feelings before her own.

At least I’d been able to do that for Zach. His face froze when I told him to go. Everything I said after that seemed to thrash him, the pain raw in his blue eyes. But I owe him everything in my power to make sure his life doesn’t fall apart. And that’s exactly what will happen if we’re together.

No vacations to tropical islands. No Ivy League education. No elite career trajectory.

Throughout the night I speak with some of the family members who wake and stretch before going back to sleep. I learn that Wanda and Marie occupy the other beds in Diana’s room. Wanda has a swatch of kinky gray hair and three generations of family coming and going. Marie, probably in her early thirties, had a miscarriage and hysterectomy.

I might have dozed in the chair beside Diana, but if I did, it wasn’t much. Along with Wanda’s youngest son, who sports a full head of gray hair, and Marie’s older sister, I watch the sun come up. Diana sleeps and I tell myself over and over that sending Zach away is the best thing I can do for him.

Diana wakes briefly and refuses to eat her breakfast despite my urging. She goes back to sleep and I wander to the lounge. At the vending machines, I debate whether to spend a dollar on a soda. To most people, it’s just a dollar. Easily thrown away on something frivolous. But my funds are limited and I shouldn’t spend money on something not totally necessary. We’re going to need every cent to keep us going until Diana gets on her feet.

Mom taught me how to scrimp. It had taken us saving pennies to afford our dive trips and I learned how little expenditures add up. I turn from the machines trying not feel the disappointment of a five-year-old.

At least I’m not hungry. Marie’s and Wanda’s families made sure I’m well fed. I appreciate them sharing. They’ve taken me under their wings and cluck over me almost as much as they did their loved ones in the hospital beds.

“Kylie.” The voice catches me off-guard and I spin around, unable to stop my immediate reaction.

Zach.

He stands in front of me, his jaw tight, gaze steady. I know I should tell him to leave. Turn and run. It’s what he expects, and he came for me anyway.

His face mirrors my feelings and when he opens his arms I step into them without hesitation.

I cling to him and somewhere inside, a bit of the impenetrable wall crumbles. A fissure runs down the place I held myself fixed and steady for Diana. Trembling begins somewhere deep in my core and Zach pulls me even closer. “Shshsh. Kylie.”

When he says my name, I shatter. Heaving sobs that wrack my entire body. Make it impossible to breathe.

He helps me across the lobby and out the sliding doors to the heavy humidity of the island morning. He finds a stone bench and when we sit, he gathers me into his arms again. I bury my face in his chest, wrapping my arms around his back and burrowing in, away from everything.

Tropical birds riot in a raucous chorus.

Hibiscus and bougainvillea explode in pink, red, and white.

And while I cry, Zach holds me.

I don’t know how long we sit out here. Cars drive into the parking lot in front of us. People walk on the sidewalk into the hospital and out. I don’t care. Eventually, I stop crying and start to pull myself together.

Zach kisses my head. “Wait here.” He disappears inside the sliding doors.

I scrub my face and straighten my t-shirt, drawing in deep breaths. Diana isn’t Mom. She isn’t riddled with disease eating away at her from the inside. She’s been beaten up, but her body will repair itself. She’s going to be okay. She’s going to get better and live.

And so will I.

Without Zach.

My eyes start to swim again, and I swipe at them. Enough of this weak-assed princess shit.

Straighten up. Do what’s right before you ruin his life.

Only hours ago, I put myself on a track away from Zach and I’ve already given in. That can’t happen again. Liesa was right and if I wasn’t so tired and worried, I’d have done the right thing.

I steel myself for what I have to do.

It doesn’t take long for Zach to return, a cold can of soda in his hand, condensation beading on the side. He settles next to me and puts it on the bench between us.

With the last of my will, I push it away. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He spares a quick glance at the parking lot. “I drove around a few times and didn’t see anyone following me. We’re okay.”

I force myself to look at him. Trying to scrape ups few shreds of resolve to harden myself. “You’re not getting.” I look down at the can of soda he set on the bench between us. “I don’t want you here.”

“Oh, I get it.” His tone pulls my gaze up and I find him looking at me with the same expression he wore when I first saw him. Like he’s ready for a fight. “You’ve made it pretty clear—unfortunately for you, I’m an entitled douchebag who’s used to getting his way.”

My mouth falls open and flaps a few times while I try to push sound past my lips. When all I do is manage to look stupid, he rolls right over me and keeps talking.

“I bought it for a few days—that you don’t want to be with me. That it’s over. But that was just me, taking the easy way out—same as always.” He leans into me, bringing his face to within inches of mine. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why you changed your mind about us. What I do know is I’m not taking the easy way out. Not this time. Not with you.”

My heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear him over the whoosh of blood in my ears. “I want you to leave.” The voice that carries the words sounds like mine, but it sounds distant. Fleeting. Like it’s being broadcasted through a radio from a passing car.

“No, you don’t.” He leans away from me, Jaw set. Impossible blue gaze hooked into mine. “I have no fucking idea what you want, Kylie—but that’s not it. I’d bet my life on it.”

“How about your trust fund?” When I say it, his head jerks back like I took a swing at him. “Would you bet your trust fund? How about your family? Your mom and your sister.” I lunge up to stand over him. “What about the millions my father threw at you to fuck some spoiled Kardashian wannabe?” Even though I’m standing over him, looking down, I feel small. Pathetic. “Would you bet that—because that’s what you stand to lose if you keep coming after to me.”

He looks stunned. Like I smacked him in the face. “Who told you?” I don’t answer him. I don’t have to. He knows.

Liesa.

“I get it.” I cross my arms over my chest, pinning my hands under my arms so I won’t reach for him. “You like the idea of swooping in and saving me—poor, pathetic Kylie, who can’t even afford to buy herself a goddamned soda—but I think you like the idea of getting fucked for your trouble just as much—maybe even more.”

That’s what does it.

That’s what finally pushes him too far.

Pushes him away.

He surges to his feet to tower over me. “No.” He looks wrecked. Sick to his stomach. “That’s a lie and you know it.”

“Do I?”

We stand there, staring at each other for what feels like years. People are looking at us. Someone is going to recognize him.

“Goodbye, Zach.” I make myself say it. Make myself mean it.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head at me. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s already done.” I back away from him, unanchoring my hands from my sides as soon as I’m a safe distance away. “Go back to Liesa. Forget you ever met me and I’ll forget how screwed up my life has been since the moment I met you.”

Turning, I start to walk away, half relieved and half heartbroken that he’s letting me.

I’m ending us and he’s letting me.

My heart takes a fluttering jump at my throat when I feel his hand close over my arm. He spins me around and I’m suddenly staring up into the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen.

He’s angry.

I hadn’t counted on that. That he’d be angry.

Fight for me.

“You forgot your soda.” He pushes something cold and wet into my hand, but he doesn’t let me go. He pulls me closer. So close I have to crane my neck to look up at him. “You win, Kylie.” He says it quietly, giving me a quick smile that looks more like a grimace. “I’ll leave. But when you call me—and you will call—I’m going to answer and when you ask me to come, I’ll be here before you have time to hang up the phone.” His fingers tighten around my arm, almost hard enough to bruise. “Because I’m not your father and I’m not going to abandon you—no matter how much you want me to.”

Then he lets me go and walks away.